Sanctity
by swanheartthief
Summary: It's the hardest thing to do, to let go when you love someone so deeply. But what happens when Violet discovers she was pregnant just prior to her passing and is forced to confront Tate once more? Was there another motive for Tate's horrifying crimes?
1. Premonition

"**Sanctity"**

**Summary - **It's the hardest thing to do, to let someone go when you love them so deeply. But what happens when Violet discovers she was pregnant just prior to her passing and is forced to confront Tate once more? Why do all the occupants of the house seem so desperate to have children? Was there another motive to all of Tate's horrifying crimes? Can he still be redeemed or will he destroy the one person who is his only chance at salvation?

**Disclaimer – **I do not own American Horror Story. It is owned and copyrighted by all its respective creators. I am a poor college student with only dryer lint and a half eaten cookie D;

**Author's Note - **Just as a small warning, the first couple chapters won't deal with the pregnancy. But I'll get there trust me, everything's got a point! ^_^ Thank you for reading and bearing with me haha!

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter One - <strong>"Premonition"_

_**1994, Night Before the Westfield High Massacre**_

They walk in silence, mother and child.

Lights flash from passing cars, their horns blaring harshly against the warm night air, the traffic backing up for miles from the long rush hour commute. Late night partygoers fly past them, their laughter and free spirited nature mocking the obvious anger and resentment between the pair. Palm trees danced and swayed above in the wind, as if to point and shake with laughter. Or perhaps it was all within the boy's mind. After all, he was only a joke to his mother, whom he had begrudgingly agreed to accompany on this ridiculous holy crusade. Her quest to reclaim her so called "perfect prodigal son", even though nothing he did was ever good enough for her. If for no other reason than to shut her up and let her pretend a little longer so he could keep her the hell off his back.

The older woman sighs, her heels making short, annoying clicks on the pavement below, the 1950ish scarf on her head billowing in the breeze,the ashen blonde locks below it becoming disheveled. She refused to look at him, her eyes pointed straight ahead, her chin held high in defiance, refusing to be intimidated by her own child. Her voice was angry, and at the same time desperate. "You know, the least you could do is pretend you care how I feel."

He glances in her direction, his dark eyes staring at her with laced venom, his words no safer. "Sorry **mother**,but that requires far too much effort."

She rolls her eyes as they finally reach their destination, a small darkened store front on the corner, the windows covered by dark purple velvet drapes, which peeled away from the glass in a sudden breeze as the door opened. Small cheerful bells jingled against the door handle as various cream and white colored candles lined the store, their tiny flames flickering, almost as if in fear of his approach. Or at least the boy liked to think so. He liked it when things were afraid of him- it gave him control. He felt... godlike. Like he had some control over this miserable forsaken life of his and this woman that was his poor excuse for a mother. Every time he did something to openly defy her, he knew it lashed another scar into her heart and the thought thrilled him to no end.

The scent of various incense wafted around them, the light, airy, new age music playing softly in the background. They weaved through the various shelves and cases, herbs and powders and leather books lining them in an organized chaos. As they finally reached the back, a smaller girl, roughly the boy's age smiled at them as she stood, her long bleach blonde hair floating over her silver sequined shirt, golden hoop earrings framing her face as they dangled. "Can I help you?"

The older woman smiled at the girl, her southern tinted accent drawling kindly as she put her hand on her son's shoulder, secretly gripping it in a way that told him he had damn well better behave. He stared hard at her, having zero intention of obeying, his dark eyes burning into her as she continued to address the girl.

"Yes my dear, my name is Constance Langdon. This is my son Tate. We're here to speak with Madame Billie Dean, as we discussed on the phone last night. For the...reading."

_"Do you believe in the devil?"  
>"No..."<br>"I do. I've looked into his eyes..."_

The girl looked over at Tate, becoming slightly uncomfortable in his presence. Her smile fell as she looked up at him, his lack of smile and soulless eyes driving into her. She quickly turned her gaze back to Constance, shifting nervously in place. "Ah yes, right away. The Madame is expecting you. Please follow me." Quickly turning her back on them both, the girl lead them down a darkened hallway, all too happy to be out from underneath Tate's consuming gaze. There was something about him that didn't sit very well with her and if she continued to look into those eyes any longer, she felt like her soul would be devoured alive.

As soon as they were half way down the hall, she led them through an open door. Inside the room were more candles on small wooden tables, a large rounded table draped in a bright blue shimmering material, with various other patterned silk materials draped from the ceiling and walls. In the middle of the table sat a large crystal ball, glowing with a bright purple aura, changing every few seconds to other various colors as a swirl of mist floated within. A deck of ornately decorated tarot cards stood off to the side of it.

Pulling out the chairs, the girl motioned for the pair to sit, Constance sitting first and undoing her scarf with a heavy sigh. To prove a point, Tate quickly grabbed the other chair, moving as far away from her as possible, crossing his arms and legs in further protest, smirking when she only rolled her eyes at him. Smiling uncomfortably, the girl quickly turned on her high heel, shutting the door quietly behind her as if scared they would see her and drag her into their war.

Tate continued to stare mockingly at his mother as she pulled a cigarette from the case in her purse, lighting it and taking a long drag to ease her stress. The smoke swirled around her head, covering her face in the dim light as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Tate continued to watch her, amused. "I already know what you're up to."

Constance never opened her eyes, even with the underlying threat in his words. "Oh you think so do you?"

"You're only doing this to scare me into line. That press on nail psychic is gonna come in here, look into that cheap plastic crystal ball that she probably got on the home shopping network and tell me if I stay on the same path I'm on, I'm gonna ruin my life, or whatever the hell you guys wrote into your script. Then she'll tell me I better get my shit together before I end up dead, or end up trapped in some loveless relationship where if my children don't turn out perfect I treat them like shit or kill them. Whichever comes first."

Sighing, Constance bowed her head, her words biting back, refusing to concede, refusing to look at him, to let him get to her this way. "Must you always be so goddamned difficult? Stop with the bullshit."

"After you. Ladies first."

Constance opened her eyes into a death glare, her mouth already forming into a nasty comeback, but was quickly interrupted by a woman who'd entered the room. She was dressed in a long flowing burgundy dress, her chest and shoulders covered by a light pink patterned silk from India, which wove up and around her head. A small golden charm bracelet adorned her wrist, jingling as she walked towards them. Her dark blonde hair flowed out from underneath it as she smiled at them kindly. "Am I interrupting something?"

"_Billie's been helping me for years. I've been through all the phonies. But she...is 100% authentic."_

Constance quickly rose, smoothing her skirt before she rose to take the woman's hand in her own. "I apologize, my son here can be...quite the little demon when he wants to be. I am at my wit's end. I was hoping you'd be able to give us some...wisdom so that we might be able to unlock his destiny."

"_You know Tate, unlike your siblings you were graced with so many gifts. How is it that you can't bring yourself to use them? Just a smile...or a kind word could open the gates to Heaven..."  
>"No matter how much you want it...I will <strong>never <strong>be your perfect son."_

Billie Dean took Constance's hand within her own, and embraced her friend. "I'm sure he's not as bad as you say. I guess all parents feel like their teenagers are demons sometimes." she spoke, looking down at Tate and reaching for his hand. He smiled up at her, the same mocking smile he'd given his mother. "Oh, no, that's actually the one thing she's right about." he spoke, feigning perkiness to further the charade.

But as soon as her warm hand met his, she snapped back, as if jolted by a sudden burst of electricity, her eyes widening in shock and fear. She stepped back from him slowly, as if he'd just shot her. Tate stared up at her, the mocking, dangerous smile still plastered on his face. Constance stared at the scene in confusion, not quite sure what to make of it. "Is everything alright?"

Billie turned to look at her, her eyes and mouth still wide, her breath finally releasing. She exhaled slowly, swallowing hard as she plastered on a fake smile. "No...it's...it's nothing. Just sometimes when...a medium meets someone with such a strong aura so directly...it can have a powerful effect. But it's nothing to worry about." she finished as she rounded the table, sitting in the old wooden chair in back of it. She brought the crystal ball closer to her as she took a deep breath, closing her eyes and focusing as she began to whisper several latin phrases, sometimes humming and chanting.

Constance stared intently at her, while Tate threw his head back laughing. "Are you kidding me? Humming and chanting? Am I supposed to be scared right now or something? I could've gone to one of those carnival fortune tellers and got better results."

Groaning, Constance reached over and slapped him hard on the arm. "Be quiet! You're being disrespectful."

Opening her eyes, Billie reached across the table toward Tate. "Give me your palm."

Letting out another laugh, he rolled up his black hoodie sleeve, putting his hand in her own. "What, your crystal ball couldn't tell you anything? Shocking. Let me guess. I'm gonna die."

Billie ignored his taunts, lightly dragging her finger over the lines of his palm, her brows furrowing in concentration. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm afraid...it's much more serious than that."

"_I can't read your future. That's a different gift."_

Tate snorted and pulled his hand away. "You hear that mother? It's more serious. Super serious!" he said, clapping. "Bravo, you two really went out of your way to try and scare me. I'm impressed. B+ for effort. So do tell me, what's so serious that I had to be dragged all the way out here?"

Staring intently at him, there was no smile or laughter in her voice. "Death and darkness surround you. You are at a fork in the road Tate. Your actions now will ultimately decide the fate of many."

"Are you listening to her?" Tate asked as he rose from his chair. "Did she get this off a goddamned fortune cookie?"

"Heed my words." she said as she rose with him, her words becoming firm and urgent. "If you do not act with care, your actions may ultimately cause the end of the world. You need to take this very seriously. You and those you love are in grave danger."

Walking over to Constance he smiled at her, standing in front of her with his hands clasped. "You hear that mother? I do have an important destiny after all. I'm gonna end the world. Aren't you proud of me? I'm gonna end the suffering of all the miserable people on this damn shitty rock. I'm a goddamned saint."

Constance could say nothing as she looked away from him, the ashes from her cigarette falling to the floor. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She hated when he got like this...there was something maniacal about him, as if a switch had been flipped and something in her son was turned off and he was no longer himself.

Laughing darkly, Tate gripped the table firmly, flipping it against the wall in a sudden burst of anger, the crystal ball flying to the ground, shattering to pieces as Billie fell to the floor, her arms covering her head for protection. Tate only continued to laugh, throwing one last glance at his horrified mother and laughing harder when he saw her shock and outrage. Turning for the door he opened it and stood outside it. "What a joke. Don't quit your damn day job."

Constance, more used to her son's outbursts than others, stood up from her chair and approached him. "Where the hell are you going?"

He only grinned at her. "Gonna go call up the White House. Figured they might hook me up with some nuclear missiles. I'm sure they'll have no problem, seeing as I'm the chosen one and all. Mind as well let the world go out with a bang." he finished as he turned to walk away.

But before he could leave, Billie rose from the floor and darted over to him, desperate as she clasped his wrist. "I know Tate. I know...what's inside of you. There is a shadow, a darkness within you. This is not the true you. Please...you must fight it and hear what I'm saying to you. I know you're in there."

_"He was a model of physical perfection. He was my gift. But I lost him to other things." _

It was Tate's turn to jolt in fear, as he turned back to her, eyes wide. The previously dangerous smile was no where to be found, and there was no longer any humor or mirth in his demeanor. A slight tremble entered his voice as he turned to face her. "Wha...what?"

She gripped him by the shoulders now, as firmly as she possibly could. "Listen to me. I know you don't want to truly hurt anyone. But there is something in you that can, and will. I know you're a good person. But you have to fight it. Banish it Tate...you have the banish the darkness with light. If you don't...the suffering you will bring to others will be unspeakable."

Completely shaken and visibly disturbed now, he shook free of her grasp. "No...no you're lying. I never told you that. Who told you about that!"

Billie shook her head sadly. "I could feel it the instant I touched you."

Tate clumsily backed away from her, knocking some bowls and papers off the shelf behind him which hit the floor and broke with a loud, shattering crash. "No...please...I don't wanna hurt anyone...don't let it take me...please...I don't want this..." he spoke, barely above a whisper, tears pouring down his face. "I can't fight it...it's winning...help me..."

Her face wore a sympathetic, sad smile now as she reached for his hand once more. "I can help you Tate...but only if you want to be helped."

With a scream, Tate ripped his hand away from hers, and stumbled out the door as the bells hanging from it fell to the ground with a clash.

She simply stood, looking on with fear and sadness as Tate tore away from the building, while Constance approached her from behind. "Is he...?" she asked.

Billie only shook her head. "I'm sorry...he is lost to you now."

…

_**The Next Morning, The Day of the Massacre, 4:00am**_

"_Good people don't just have a bad day and start shooting people."_

"_Maybe he wasn't a good person."_

Tate sat on the bed staring straight ahead, for hours. The night air was still, the crickets chirping outside in a monotone lullaby. He wasn't sure how long he'd been there. But then he wasn't sure if he even cared. He was drowning, and he knew it.

He saw the shadow out of the corner of his eye, in the corner of the room, it's darkness blocking out the blue paint behind it. He hated looking at it, it was like staring straight into hell itself. He was afraid if he looked at it directly, he'd lose himself completely.

_"Negative energy feeds on trauma and pain. It draws those things to it. The force here in this house is larger than the many individual traumas. And it has a need. It wants to break through. It wants to move in our world. It's using those trapped between this world and the next as conduits."_

"Go away."

It was silent as it hovered, saying nothing as Tate repeated his forceful request. "I said go **away**."

The shadow moved towards him now, slowly creeping up on him in a smoke like trail.

_**'You are helpless to stop it. The oncoming darkness.'**_

Shaking now, Tate clenches his fists at his side. "Shut up!"

_**'You know the truth. You cannot defy me. You belong to me now.'**_

Eyes fully tearing up now, Tate rises and punches his bed in frustration. "What the hell do you want with me? Leave me alone! I'm a good person! I don't want this!"

_**'Kill them Tate. Kill them so they won't suffer. Kill them so they won't have to endure what's to come.'**_

"No! Fuck you!" he screams, running out the door, desperate to get away from the shadow's grasp. All but throwing himself down the stairs, he passes Constance lying on the couch unconscious, a drink in hand, oblivious to her son's distress, his angry pleading screams.

Running as fast as he can, he runs without purpose. Without destination. Knowing that he only wants to escape. The air has chilled with the morning dew, his breath escaping in thin clouds, releasing all of his fear and anger, mindless to anything but escaping its destructive grasp. The sun begins to rise as he stops, no longer able to draw on any breath, knowing not even a track star's lungs can last forever.

Doubling over, he puts his hand on a wall, panting in fury and frustration. Tate glances over his shoulder in worry that the shadow has only followed him, but relief floods through him when he sees nothing but sunlight coming over the horizon. He relaxes finally, his body releasing all tension. As he breathes one last comforting sigh, he turns to look where he is, shock igniting inside him when he realizes he is once again in front of the psychic's store.

Blinking with awe, he remembers her words all too clearly last night.

"_I can help you Tate, but only if you want to be helped."_

Swallowing hard, Tate begins to bang on the glass door, the bells obnoxiously banging against it. "Billie! Please if you're in there! I need to talk to you!" he screams through the door, alternating between yelling and peering inside to see any signs of response. "Please...help me! You're the only one who can!"

With one last glance inside, Tate drops his arms back to his sides, defeated. Turning away from the store front, he stares out into the street, his gaze blank and empty and helpless as cars pass him one by one, none giving the faceless nobody the time of day.

"I knew you would come."

Jolted back to reality, Tate whirled back around to find Billie standing in the doorway of the store front, none of the glitter and glamour from last night present. "You...knew?"

"Well...more like guessed. Truth is you're right. I'm a fraud. This gig is only to pay the bills, since my son of a bitch ex husband walked out the door on me. I can't see futures, only spirits. Being a medium and having foresight are two very different gifts. But I do know a bad soul from a good one. And I do know you want to do the right thing."

He looked at her incredulously, and yet there was a small spark of hope deep within that maybe she'd been lying about her prediction too. "So you lied to me?"

"No." She said firmly, staring intently into his eyes. "The reality of your situation is very real." Reaching forward, she took his hand in hers. "Now, come inside."

Crestfallen, he follows numbly while she leads him to a plush couch next to the counter and motions for them both to sit.

Pulling out a pack of cigarettes, she lights one before puffing, sighing as she turns back to face him. "Tate...do you know why I wanted you to come back here? To have your mother bring you here in the first place?"

He only shook his head and looked at her thoughtfully. "You know...you shouldn't be smoking when you're pregnant."

She stared at him thoughtfully for a moment before continuing. "Because the future isn't set in stone. We may be able to get glimpses into our futures but in the end the choices that we make ultimately define who we are. There are many futures and the choices we make daily affect those futures. For instance... a married man can be tempted by the love of another woman. He can choose to fall under her spell and ruin his life and that of his family. Or he can refuse her advances and keep his peaceful life."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you need to fight this Tate. You need to let the light in. You need to choose to fight."

Laughing, he leans his head back and closes his eyes. "That's all great and wonderful but you still haven't told me exactly how to do that. If you know so much, don't you think I've been trying?"

"I know you have." she said softly. "But this is gaining power over you and it won't be long before it overtakes you completely."

"It scares me..." he admitted. "It takes over me...I black out. And when I wake up...I know bad things have happened. But I never know what." Sighing, he pauses before speaking. "...So what do I do then?"

"Dark spirits feed on negative energy. Anger...hatred...sadness...vengeance. With these, it will thrive. Light is love. The love between lovers...friends...a parent and their child. Darkness will never win because it does not understand love and will always underestimate it."

Tate laughs again, this time with bitterness coating every word. "Fantastic. Too bad I have no one that loves me. My father ran away when I was six to go fuck his mistress without the burden of me around. And my mother...well you saw what happened last night. She doesn't care about me, she only wants to fix her own mistakes through me."

"Everyone has someone who loves them Tate." Flicking the ashes in her tray, Billie takes another long drag. "She is coming for you."

Tate's eyes snap open as he sits upright, turning to her with cautious hope in his eyes. "Who is "she"?"

Billie smiles slyly. "You've seen her haven't you? In your dreams."

Nodding, he smiles, for the first time in a long time, with no bitterness. "Yeah...everytime I see that...thing in my dreams. She always comes and takes it away. She... saves me. The girl in white. The one with purple violets in her hair. She's so beautiful."

"She's your guardian angel Tate. Cherish her, don't ever let go of her or mistreat her." Reaching one last time for his hand, she squeezes and gives him a hopeful smile. "Stay strong Tate. Everyone can be saved. Even you. Remember that a shadow cannot exist without a light shining."

"I...I understand."

"Good. Now...come back and see me after school. We'll figure this out. We'll get you help."

Nodding, Tate rises from the couch, feeling like maybe there was hope for him for the first time. Moving towards the door, he turns to look back at her his voice quiet. "I...I'm sorry for last night. I'll help you fix it."

Smiling at him, she makes a dismissive motion towards the door. "Don't worry about it. We'll figure it out later."

"Right." he says. Turning to walk out the door, he walks out into the bright morning sunlight, feeling stronger.

_"He's a sensitive boy, you know that. A young man with too deep feelings, the soul of a poet, but none of the grit or steel that acts as a bulwark against... the horrors of this world."_

But before he can turn the corner, his body stiffens as he feels the familiar icy darkness creeping into his vision. He can feel himself losing control, a loud piercing shriek pulsing in his head. Dropping to his knees he tumbles to the grass below, clutching his head in pain. "No...please...not now. Let me go..." he begs, his plea falling on deaf ears. "I have...to fight it..."

_**'Tate...please...get up. You can do it Tate...fight it.'**_

Struggling to lift his head, he raises it enough to see a girl in front of him, a familiar white dress and an unearthly aura, her face framed with delicate violet blossoms. _**'Don't go...don't leave me Tate. Please...' **_she pleaded.

Tears formed in the corners of his eyes, his breath coming in sharp, jagged coughs. "I'm...sorry. I can't...so...sorry..." he breathed, before blacking out completely.

The last images to cross his mind were of her...of his angel...reaching out to him. A small, crystalline tear falling from her eyes, fading from his eyesight as the darkness won the war.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes<br>**- First of all, I wanna say I hope it's okay so far- this is my first time for writing something other than anime admittedly. I know there's no pregnancy stuff yet, but trust me I'm building to it. :D Let's just say I love my plot twists, yes indeed.  
>- This story does operate off the assumption that Tate was in fact possessed by a demon, thus explaining the "dual personality".<br>- I know it said in the series that Constance met Billie Dean through Craigslist...but I figured this could be something to write off as another one of those lies she tells because she doesn't want people knowing the full truth. And truthfully I'm also trying to build up the whole "why does everyone have baby fever" stuff and make a confrontation between Billie and Tate that would explain down the line her harsh reaction to him in "Birth" (not that being demonically possessed wouldn't)  
>- And yes, he did in fact go commit the massacre after he blacked out at the end, as well as set Larry on fire.<br>- And... I guess that's all for now. Hope it wasn't too boring ;/ Haven't written in awhile so I'm kinda out of touch. I'm sorry if I didn't fully proofread it yet- I'm dead tired (hah) and I just wanted to get it up on the site for now.

Thank you for reading ^^


	2. Sacrifice

"**Sanctity"**

**Disclaimer - **I do not own American Horror Story. It is owned and copyrighted by all its respective creators. I am a poor college student with only dryer lint and a half eaten cookie D; (Go away SOPA! Dx You can't have my cookies! But no really gtfo!)

**Author's Note – **Hiya! So here's the thing. I obviously didn't do my research very carefully or I would've realized stuff like this story has been somewhat done before. Feel free to blame it on my noobishness.. I am pretty late to the fandom in general, I started watching starting with the season finale at my friend's and was like "Damn this is awesome!" and found the whole series but yeah. Anyway! I do apologize cause I feel bad, I feel like I'm copying or something.. so I will do my best to make this as different as possible! ^^ I'm kinda nervous about this chapter...but eh...

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed and added to their favorites/alerts! I'm really happy everyone liked it so much and it made my week! ^_^ Much love! ~**Koete**

_sanc·ti·ty [sangk-ti-tee]_

_noun, plural -ties. _

_1. holiness, saintliness, or godliness. _

_2. sacred or hallowed character: the inviolable sanctity of the temple. _

_3. a sacred thing.  
>4. the condition of being inviolable; sacredness: the sanctity of marriage <em>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Two - <strong>"Sacrifice"_

She wasn't sure how long she stood there, her body shaking, her vision wavering. The wind that blew around her felt icy and chilled her to the bone, even though the sun had already begun to heat the California day to extreme temperature. Fitting, that on the day the world was to end it would end in fire.

Kneeling to the ground below, she felt the cool grass beneath her palms, feeling the concern as the blades rose up to caress her hands. Tears only fell from her eyes in response as the morning dew soaked her bright white dress, crying out for her.

She'd failed him.

Now not only was he going to die, but countless other innocent souls also.

And it was all her fault...

"Please...forgive me. I have failed you...because of my sins more light will die...Tate...I...I love you..."

…

_**1994, A Few Months Before the Massacre**_

She remembered the day she'd been charged with the mission of protecting him. The day the highest of the holy had pleaded with her to change his fate. She had no idea what they possibly wanted her to do- she was just a lowly angel, nothing special or setting her apart from the others. In fact she often felt outcast- like she never belonged in Heaven. She felt...tainted, impure...broken. She was different and she knew it. And yet she was responsible for stopping the antichrist? They had to be mistaken.

"You must go to him."

The shock was apparent on her face, her eyes widening in slow confusion. "But...isn't he supposed to bring about the ruin? Why would He want to save the embodiment of all evil?"

The archangel smiled calmly at her, "It is not your place to question the One. Now go, free him from the evil presence that resides in him so that we may allow his soul to cross over and for the world to be saved."

All this ceremony for something angels were supposed to be doing every day, saving human souls from demons and darkness. The other angels stood around her, watching her with curiosity...with disgust? How was this half breed so important that she got chosen for such a mission? They had long resented her as she seemed to be a favored daughter of the One, yet she was not one of them- and she never would be.

"_They don't understand you. They never will...understand you..."_

"Yes..." she finally nodded, releasing a breath she didn't realize she was holding. She turned away silently, the look of horror melting away into a look of defeated resignation. A pure, bright light wrapped itself around her, her form slowly vanishing as it entered the human kingdom.

As her body materialized, the cold night air hit her lungs in a painful punch, causing her to gasp for air momentarily. Doubled over and panting, she steadied herself enough to raise her head and look around, before realizing she was standing in the middle of a yard, staring out into a dark, empty, lifeless street. A few seconds later, she stood fully upright, her cotton white dress fluttering about in the harsh, ominous wind that had picked up around her, her hair dancing with it as the violets wrapped within floated along happily, seemingly unaware of the danger.

But as she turned to look behind herself, she gasped, jumping backward, her eyes widening in horror at the sight before her. The grass, seemingly scared itself, did nothing to break her fall as she stumbled backwards, hitting the ground below.

The breath left her body as it stared her down, the darkness seeping from every vein and corner of the house before her. The breath caught in her throat as she tried to breathe, willing her lungs to obey. She wanted to do anything but be in this presence, but the sheer gravity of the aura prevented her from looking away. In all of her time helping the humans of this world, she'd never encountered something so evil before. It was as if she were at the gates of hell itself.

Swallowing hard, she forced herself off the ground, her legs trembling as she brushed the hair away from her face. Steadying herself, she willed herself to float to the second story window, the brick and glass peeling away from reality to allow her to pass through, as if she were walking through water, as a scene of pitch black nothingness rose to meet her.

Cautiously, she looked around, afraid to move as if the darkness would swallow her whole if she moved any closer to its depths. The only light within was a small sliver of silver moonlight, illuminating a blurry figure on the bed in the corner. Curious, footsteps lighter than air, she slowly moved forward towards it, able to see the steady rise and fall of breathing underneath the blankets.

Gently, she pulled the covers away so as not to wake whomever was sleeping beneath. Her breath hitched in her lungs once more, this time from surprise instead of fear.

She hadn't known what to expect. She'd known that he would have a darkness to him, but she had expected someone a little more... menacing in appearance.

He seemed so innocent...so beautiful...she could hardly believe such a being could be responsible for The End. Her heart rolled over in her chest...the most lovely sensation she'd ever known as she watched the rise and fall of his own, his light blonde messy hair falling gently over his eyes. And his lips... they looked soft and delicate...they called to her like a moth to a flame, as if trying to seal her demise.

Angels and humans were forbidden from being together. And if they were...the consequences were dire. But sitting here...with this perfect being in front of her...without ever having known him...she felt as if she would give anything for him. For a human. For darkness. She knew that shouldn't sit well with her...and yet somehow she didn't care. The red sirens of warning fell away into obscurity until they could no longer reach her.

"_The devil is real. And he's not a little red man with horns and a tail. He can be beautiful. Because he's a fallen angel. And he used to be God's favorite."_

Reaching down to brush a strand of hair away from his face, she smiled lightly as the darkness seemed to dissipate around them, her heart beating a little faster as she continued to watch him. Clasping her hand around his, she moved to sit on the edge of the bed, slowly lowering herself down to watch him better. She knew she was being pulled down...down by temptation.

She was in the garden of eden. Her name was Eve, and here was her apple.

Her senses were hazy...something was so wrong but she didn't know what. And honestly... she still didn't care. She could almost feel the slow creep of a serpent crawling up her legs...binding her in place...urging her to give in...

Her whole body was being pulled down by gravity as she slowly caressed his face. Those lips...those perfect lips...would one kiss really be so bad?

Lowering herself even further she grasped his face completely now. She brushed her fingers against his lips one more time before lowering her own to them in a light, electric kiss before the blackness began to creep into her vision, her eyes slowly closing.

Just as she felt herself being pulled under, she saw a tiny light at the edge of her vision, reaching out for her, almost like a metaphysical hand pulling her back from the brink.

When she came to, her eyes snapped open, and she realized with a start that the boy's hand was now firmly clasped around her wrist. Gasping, she tried to wrestle herself free, but his grip was like iron.

She gave in to temptation, and now she was helpless and trapped. Her breath came in shallow wisps as she waited for the end of her existence.

But in never came.

Looking down, she saw the boy staring up at her, his piercing brown eyes staring straight into her soul. His expression was blank, and it took her a few moments to realize he was still unconscious.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice monotone, yet distant.

She shook her head silently, as her eyes darted around the room, trying to desperately look for some means of escape. Regaining her senses, she realized this must be the demon controlling his actions. With a sick dread in her stomach, she berated herself for being a fool and letting her guard down. The demon had lured her in like a venus fly trap, and now she'd pay the price.

"You shouldn't be here...you don't belong here..." he continued as the grip on her wrist increased, causing her to cry out in pain and his hand began to burn her. The pain was so intense, she felt a bright, hot, white light burning into her vision where there had previously been only the void. Tears began cascading from her eyes as she dropped to the cold, wooden floor in pain, praying for some release, whether by miracle or death. Just as she felt herself begin to slip under, reality once again pulled her back from the abyssal cliffs. Looking up, she saw the boy grasping desperately at his throat, his breaths coming in jagged waves as if he were being choked.

"Leave...her...alone..." he gritted out angrily. "I won't... let you hurt...her..."

"_Before you that's all there was...you're the only light I've ever known."_

Struggling to her feet and ignoring the pain, she reached out for him. "What's going on?" she breathed, "Are you alright?"

With a strangled cry, he pushed her hand away, his body convulsing within the sheets, twisting the blankets. "No...you have to get away from...this place..." he yelled. "If you don't...you'll die..."

The tears reaffirmed within her eyes as she took another step forward. It could have been another trick, but she knew it was real. She could feel his soul resisting the demon's power struggle. "I can't just leave you...I've been sent here...to protect you, to help you!"

With one last muffled scream, he managed to resist enough to quell the demon, his breathing beginning to normalize as the oxygen flooded with relief into his battered lungs. He looked up at her, gripping the bed sheets tightly as he gave her a small smile. "You're...you're here to help me?"

"Yes..." she whispered softly as she returned his smile in kind, wiping away her tears with her hands before reaching out her hand.

"You're my guardian angel..." he breathed as she reached for it, enjoy the feel of her soft skin.

"I'm going to help you Tate...I promise. I'm going to protect you..."

He looked up into her eyes, the moved his gaze to her hair, taking notice of all the flowers laced within. "You must be Violet...such a beautiful flower. So small, yet so powerful. It suits you."

Her other hand unconsciously went to her hair, feeling the delicate petals. "Thank you...I've never really had a name. Violet...I love it..." she smiled brightly.

Tate beamed a smile back at her, but it fell as quickly as it came, causing Violet to frown in confusion. "Tate...what's wrong...are you okay...?" she asked, trailing off, her heart sinking as she realized his eyes were once again blank, the hard won light extinguished. "Tate...please say something...anything...stay with me, don't go!"

But there was no response as he managed to mouth the words "run away", his voice coming out raspy and inaudible. Before Violet could react however, she felt a hand close around her arm, Tate and the room rushing away as she once again found herself outside on the grass, the wind having calmed, the leave of the palm trees above swaying gently. Desperate, she whirled around to find the owner of the arm, panic written on every feature. "Why...why did you do that! I have to help him, he's suffering!"

"You can't help him in that house. It will drown you. **He** will drown you."

"I don't care! He needs me!"

The woman who grabbed her arm sighed, pulling a cigarette from the pocket of her robe as she lit it, puffs of smoke swirling around her dusty blonde hair. "There are forces in that house no ordinary being can conquer. Not even of the...heavenly variety. You go back in there.. and then what? You try to help him, and die in the process? It steals your light away and then who are you going to help? That's exactly what it wants. It wants your light. Because your power is special. It is the key to conquering this world."

"What are you talking about? You're crazy!" Violet screamed back at her.

"Be warned child." the woman smirked at her. "Do not ever set foot in that house again. Not now, not ever. Whether in this life or the next. If you do...you will be sorry. I should know." She closed her eyes, flicking the last of her cigarette to the ground and crushing it. "I'm the one responsible for the...unspeakable sorrow that lives and breathes within it..." she finished, her voice tinged with sadness...and regret.

…

_**1994, The Day of the Massacre**_

Violet's body went rigid, all of her senses going on edge as she felt its icy presence approach. People passed them on the street, seemingly unafraid and uncaring as they past the scene by. She wanted to scream and cry for help, but she knew the pleas would only go in vain. No one could see them in the spirit realm. And even if they could, what ordinary human had the power to stop a demon?

"Surrender yourself to me. That is the only way you can save them now. The only way you can save...him."

She whirled on him, backpedaling away as the hot tears burned her face. "Never..."

"Some guardian you are. You can't even save those you were charged to protect. Why would they send such an...abomination to try and stop me? It's rather insulting really."

Down the street, she could hear gun shots ring out, several people running and fleeing in terror, crying as they tried to get away from the building, tripping and falling over themselves. Her heart broke at the sight of their anguished expressions. She turned her head away in shame, wanting to deny the cause.

"Let's take a little field trip shall we? Front row seats are always better." the shadow smirked, grabbing her arm, causing her to cry out in pain from the burning sensation as it dragged her into the nearby school.

Finding themselves in the library, the demon dragged her over to where several students sat huddled behind the desk counter, shaking and whimpering, shutting their eyes in horror, as if trying to deny their fate.

"Look at them. Their death is on your hands because you failed."

Violet said nothing as she looked away from it, and them, defiantly. "Say what you want...you're the one making him do this." she said weakly, feeling powerless and sad for the ones who'd never live to see another day, so young...

BANG

Her head whipped around as she turned to see Tate, hovering over a young goth girl, her blood blooming into a crimson puddle on the floor. "No..." she whimpered as she watched him cock his rifle, his boots loud against the tile beneath. She watched as one by one he circled the room, ending his victim's lives as if they were nothing more than dirt on the floor.

Unable to watch anymore, she tried to break free of the demon's grasp, but he held her firmly in place as she tried calling out to him. "Tate...no please...fight him! You have to fight him!"

"It's useless calling out to him. He's completely under."

Falling to the floor, she cradled her head in her hands, gripping her hair in frustration, the once brilliant violets wilting beneath her palms. In a shaky breath, she turned to look up at the demon with disgust. "What do you want from me?"

"You know what I want. One little thing and it'll make this all go away."

Violet knew what he wanted. He wanted her power, her light. Why, she had no idea. But she knew she hated it- she didn't belong in Heaven, and she was considered weak amongst the other angels, frail, soft, gullible. What good was it really doing her anyway? Giving it up seemed like the best thing she could possibly do with it. If it could save these innocent souls...After all, they'd sent her, the imperfect being to save the one darkness that couldn't be conquered. She still didn't know what they possibly expected or why she was the only one out of thousands of angels that could possibly save him. Maybe this is what they wanted all along. Get rid of two abominations with one stone.

"What will happen to him?" she asked quietly.

"He will linger on this earth. Neither living nor dead, he will be trapped between the two worlds for eternity. But his soul will be spared from hell."

She looked up at him, fear written on every feature. "But they sent me to save him, why would they condemn him? They told me he would be saved! Why would they lie..."

"Oh my dear, you are a fool. Why would they want to save the ultimate darkness? Did you really believe this would end in happily ever after?"

The look of anguish on her face was all the confirmation it needed. "I see." he said with amusement, as he dropped her arm and began circling her. "Well...I can give you what you want. I can give you him. I can give you your eternity together. All I'm asking is one little minor thing in return. Something you feel is a burden to you. You can save these innocent lives, fulfill your duty as guardian, and have your happy ending. Surrender."

Defeated, she slunk against the counter, her arms wrapping around her body as she continued to watch Tate's violent rampage. It sounded too good to be true, but she was so overcome, she couldn't care. Unable to look anymore, she glued her eyes shut. "Fine...I'll do it..."

The demon above her smiled, triumphantly but it was almost...mocking. "Don't worry. You'll meet the same fate. Without your light, you will no longer be allowed into Heaven. You'll be too pure for hell...yet too impure for Heaven. Your soul will become mortal, trapped between worlds for all eternity with your beloved. How touching."

Violet could say nothing, and almost as if on cue, Tate lowered his rifle, and mindlessly walked out of the back door of the library, carnage left in his wake as his angel slid to the floor, ready to die. She closed her eyes as she felt the demon take her hand, her power beginning to rip through her veins like an electric storm as she screamed out, no noise escaping her mouth, no release.

"Don't worry...it's almost over. You won't be in pain much longer. An angel selling their soul for a human? How pathetic." it said, the paradoxical sunshine in its voice.

But Violet no longer cared as she managed one last, false hopeful whisper. "Tate...I'm sorry..."

And her world went black.

...

**Author's Notes Redux**

**- **So yeah. Tate was the original antichrist. The angels sent Violet in hopes that she could stop him. The day of the massacre was meant to be the end of the world. However, something that comes later prevents this from happening, and Tate dies, which wasn't in the demons plans, thus the need for Michael to be born.

- As for why Violet is such an "abnormal" angel, or so "powerless" that will be revealed later :D As well as why it's her power that's so crucial to the demon's plans.  
>- Uhm...I hope this was okay. I actually rather liked this chapter but idk. It feels sorta out there to me I guess but I have fun writing this xD<br>- Thank you for reading! :3


	3. Rebirth

"**Sanctity"**

**Disclaimer - **I do not own American Horror Story. It is owned and copyrighted by all its respective creators. Insert other witty dialogue here.

**Author's Note – **Ugh, I'm so mad at myself. I was writing for my other story and accidentally saved over the chapter I had written for this story. Le sigh. Now I feel like I left something out. So I hope this still turned out okay u.u Blah. Anyway, thank you so much everyone again for your kind words! You're all wonderful! ^_^ And thank you tons for the encouragement Maddtown :)

Thanks for reading everyone! ~ **Koete**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Three - <strong>"Rebirth"_

_**Nine Months Before the Harmons Move to Los Angeles**_

"Please don't tell me you seriously believe in this shit."

Alyssa smiled at her friend, her hands shuffling a deck of colorful, worn tarot cards, her eyes bright with mischief, but concern as well. "Oh come on. It won't kill you. Just humor me... this is our last night together in Boston. I wanna make sure you'll be safe when you and your mom go to Florida."

Violet stared stoically back, the smoke from her cigarette twirling teasingly in the air around her. "Stuff like this is for people who are too weak or cowardly to do anything about their situations themselves. So they resort to letting a bunch of cards tell them what to do instead of taking responsibility for their own actions."

The blonde shook her head in amusement. "I dunnow Vi..." Alyssa rang out in a sing song tone, "It sure predicted all the upheaval in your family."

This only caused Violet to roll her eyes. "Oh please, what happened was pretty damn obvious. I mean, everyone saw it coming but my mom. But she was too blind and naïve to believe it. Hell, I saw the way he looked at the next door neighbor's wife all the time, that red headed nurse chick. I tried to tell her, but she didn't believe me. I'm not surprised it ended up being one of his students."

"You shouldn't be so hard on her. She was only trying to protect her own heart. I imagine after losing the baby she probably couldn't take anymore." Laying the cards out in a neat line in front of her, Alyssa gestured to the other girl to begin drawing them. "Now come on. What's the worst that can happen?"

Smiling in defeat, Violet took one last drag from her cigarette and put it out in the glass tray on the table beside her before turning back to Alyssa. Grabbing her worried friend's hand, she squeezed in gentle reassurance. "I'm gonna be fine. I promise."

Alyssa's smile faded, her gaze lowering to the floral bedspread beneath them. "I'm not so sure of that. I just get this like... feeling that this is the last time I'm ever gonna see you."

Sighing, Violet moved to Alyssa's side, wrapping her arms around her in a warm embrace, careful to evade the tarot cards in front of them. Violet may not have liked them or believed in them, but she knew they were important to her friend and didn't want to damage them.

Alyssa had a special place in Violet's heart, ever since they had found her wandering the side of the road ten years ago. The Harmon's had been returning from a skiing vacation in New Hampshire when they found a seven year old Alyssa, wandering a wooded highway north of Boston, wearing nothing but a long, tattered white t-shirt. They took her in and cared for her, while waiting for her family to be found. Much to the bafflement of child services, no trace or any records could be found of the girl, and no blood relations to speak of. The Harmons continued to care for her for a couple years more until a local family had taken her in and adopted her. But ever since that day, Violet and Alyssa had become inseparable, much like sisters, strong as any blood bond. Violet vowed to protect her at all costs, like a pseudo guardian angel of sorts.

Alyssa looked up to Violet more than anyone else. Violet was the strongest person she knew, fearless and loyal, almost to a fault. Violet made her feel loved and safe even when she knew everyone else hated her.

After all, she was the most feared and hated girl in their school.

It started back in the second grade, the first day of school she had after the Harmons had rescued her. There had been a boy during recess whom had been playing on top of the large jungle gym on the school's playground, climbing to a high, narrow wooden plank on top in order to escape the "lava monsters" that were his friends. But the boy ended up getting overexcited, slipping and falling to the ground below. He was thought to have died on impact, his neck and spine shattering, a pool of blood fanning out around him as he lay motionless. The kids gathered around him in horror, crying and screaming. Alyssa, who'd been reading a book under a nearby tree, noticed the scene, and curious, had walked over to see what was wrong. When she saw the boy, instead of being terrified, she ran over to him, calmly feeling for signs of a pulse. As soon as she placed her fingers against the boy's neck, a miracle occurred- the boy gasped out, his lungs crying out for breath as if he'd been under water for too long. He stared up at Alyssa, looking restored despite having been dead only seconds ago. The children around them looked on, horrified and confused as several of them had begun chanting that Alyssa was a witch. Violet, who'd just come out of her class, noticed the scene and ran over to find Alyssa surrounded by the kids, including the boy she'd just saved, pointing at and taunting her as Alyssa rocked back and forth in place, crying. Violet quickly moved to Alyssa's side, shoved the kids away and pulled Alyssa off the ground, running away with her back to their home. Ever since then, Violet vowed to protect the other girl, the witch stigma following Alyssa all the way through the years, even until now. Because of this, Violet quickly became a social outcast herself. Not that she minded- people had always annoyed the shit out of her and she found most of them to be stupid, simple minded assholes anyway. It had made her bitter that they would treat a kind, innocent girl in such a manner.

After several moments, Violet pulled away, still holding her sister's hand. She smiled kindly as she looked at the cards beneath them. "So... how does this work?"

With a grin, Alyssa sat up, forming the cards back into a neat line, which had been disrupted by Violet moving next to her. "Draw three of them, but don't look at them until I say. Close your eyes, concentrate really hard, pick the ones you can feel something from."

Doing as she was told, Violet closed her eyes, indiscriminately drawing three cards from the pile. As soon as she did so, she reopened her eyes, surrendering the three cards to Alyssa's hand. Grinning, Alyssa set the cards aside and folded the unchosen cards back into a neat deck. Violet moved away from her side to instead sit in front of her, arms folded over her lap in lacking anticipation as Alyssa reached back for the three cards.

"Okay. Ready to hear your ultimate fate?"

Violet rolled her eyes. "Ready as I'll ever be."

But as soon as Alyssa flipped the cards over in her hands, her smile fell, turning into a sharp, disbelieving frown.

Confused by her sister's newly darkened demeanor, Violet stared at her in concern. "Is...everything okay?"

Alyssa swallowed, hard. "I uh... this can't be right. At least... I hope not..." she trailed off worriedly.

Violet, ever in fearless denial, reached across to try and grab the cards from Alyssa's hands. "Well what are they? It can't be that bad."

Frowning, Alyssa began to fold the cards in front of Violet so they faced her, right side up, revealing the Death, the Devil, and the Lovers cards.

Ever the disbeliever, Violet smirked at her friend and shrugged, seemingly unaware of the danger her sister seemed to think she was in. "I thought you said it wouldn't kill me."

Alyssa glanced at her with teary eyes. "Well...it doesn't mean death in the literal sense. It means the end of a major point in life... and the beginning of a new. A rebirth, I guess you could say."

Biting her lip, Violet pointed to the other two cards. "And these?"

"Well..." Alyssa spoke quietly, gathering the cards back into the rest of the pile, "The Devil represents the chains of something binding us, usually of our own making, or something that addicts us that we can't escape from. The Lovers... represents a strong bond of sorts, a very strong attachment to another person, a very deep desire. It can also mean you'll soon be faced with a dilemma, and you need to stay true to your real self."

"So...I'm gonna fall in love with the Devil. Is that what you're telling me?"

This elicited a joyless laugh from the blonde. "No... silly. Just..." she said, trailing off as she once again reached for the comfort of Violet's hand. "...just please don't fall in love. It... won't end very well."

Violet shrugged nonchalantly, unable to feel the same alarm as the girl before her, numb to the omen. "Oh don't worry. I'm not in any hurry, trust me. And I'm sure no guy is gonna want me. I mean, not like they're falling over me right now."

Alyssa smiled sadly at her. "Sorry." she said softly.

"Not your fault. Besides, after seeing what my dad did to my mom, I'm not exactly endeared to any of the male species right now."

"So you aren't." Alyssa said, rising from the bed, grabbing a nearby pillow and and blanket, laying them neatly on the spare bed next to her own. "Well... we should get some sleep. We're driving you guys to the airport tomorrow."

"Yeah. But...really, thanks. For looking out for me. I'm really gonna miss you."

Alyssa smiled at her sadly. "I'm gonna miss you too." Pulling the covers over herself, Alyssa turned the lamp off next to her, Violet settling into the spare bed beside her.

Neither of them noticed the shadow lurking in the body mirror on the door, lying in wait.

…

_**3:30 AM, The Same Night**_

_Violet..._

She woke to the sounds of someone calling out for her. It was distant...as if someone were calling out for her underneath water. She'd heard his voice so many times... needed it...wanted it...

Craved it.

Her secret addiction.

_Violet... I need you._

She saw him all the time in her dreams. His face and image were always a blur to her, but there was something in her soul that called out for him, that knew him. She couldn't see his eyes or his face, but the tendrils of messy blonde hair were hard to miss.

_Please..._

Violet woke to feeling of another body covering hers, hands caressing her body gently, loving and soft, an edge of danger. She was in a room, surrounded by blue walls and darkness, covered by a white, cotton dress, the signature violets in her hair floating on the bed around them. She felt the warm breath against her neck, lips lightly trailing kisses down her neck and along her collarbone causing her to breathlessly moan. She didn't know his name, or his face, but she knew she was his and he was hers.

_I want you Violet..._

She gasped as lips captured hers and a passionate embrace, tongues dancing as the boy slowly lowered the straps of the dress off her shoulders. The pace of their dancing became more frantic as Violet allowed her arms to wrap around him, clawing at his back as she continued to kiss him, his muffled groans encouraging her. He lowered himself down to her, gently pulling up her skirt as he went, revealing her soft, bare stomach. His lips parted with hers, much to her annoyance as he quickly parted her legs, his movements becoming more and more frenzied. She cried out with a whimper as she felt him place himself between them, placing a light kiss on her stomach.

But something about the pleasure... felt wrong. Felt like... she was being consumed.

Lifting herself off the bed, she looked down to see the boy with his palm on her stomach, a soft glow emanating from it.

"Wha.. what are you doing?" Violet asked anxiously.

"Shhh my love... it'll all be over soon."

Becoming increasingly alarmed, Violet made to push him off of her, but he was like a steel trap, holding her in the grips of desire. "What will be over? I don't understand-"

His other hand quickly moved over her mouth, cutting off her voice and breath, her eyes widening in fear. "Don't speak. Shhh." he whispered, smiling deviously. Try as she might, Violet could not move her body, her limbs feeling as if they were made of stone, the bed devouring her like quicksand.

She could feel herself fading. Whatever this was, it was destroying her and she was letting it. She could feel the tears escaping her eyes, begging for some sort of release, anything. Her lungs burned with the lack of oxygen, her muscles screaming out to escape. Just as she felt herself about to slip away, she felt a hand on her forehead, a kinder, softer one.

Alyssa.

Violet's tear stained eyes looked up at her, half terror and half wondering why her friend would just stand there and let this... thing do this to her.

"It's gonna be alright Violet." she called from above, a bright white light beginning to fill and cleanse the room. "You need to wake up now. It's not your time yet."

But before Violet could try and talk to her, the bright light vanished, leaving only darkness in its wake. Regaining control of her body, Violet bolted upright in bed, panting heavily, scanning her surroundings. The light from passing cars flickered through the window, faint police sirens could be heard in the distance in the restless Boston traffic. Next to her, she could see Alyssa under the covers, sound asleep, her blankets rising and falling with her breathing.

Letting out a heavy breath, Violet got up from her bed, wrapping herself in her sweater as she quietly exited the room, careful not to wake the other girl.

She rubbed her arms for warmth, noticing the abnormal chilly freeze within the house as she made her way downstairs for a glass of water. It hadn't been the first time she'd dreamed of him- in fact she rather enjoyed the feelings of being loved he brought to her. But it had been the first time he'd ever gotten violent with her. She didn't think much of it, and wrote it off as a dream or crazy hormone filled hallucination. She'd even confided in her father once about it who only wrote it off as a subconscious desire for a boyfriend, cracking some lame joke about how her imginary boyfriend better not do anything to his little girl. It annoyed her that he refused to take her seriously, so she began to shut him out completely. But after a few close encounters, she began to believe it herself and felt as though she might be going crazy.

Until now.

Reaching up into the cabinet, she pulled down a small crystal glass, running it under the faucet as she closed her eyes, gulping the cleansing liquid, the cold shocking the nightmare from her mind.

"You think it's over do you?"

Violet's eyes snapped open as she whirled around to see a dark figure standing behind her, darker than even the shadows around it. Upon closer inspection, Violet almost could make out the outline of horns, large, batlike wings folded behind its back. Startled, Violet let the glass fall and shatter against the tile, her feet becoming tangled on the mat below, sending her spiraling to the floor as the figure began to advance on her.

"I've finally found you...Constance thought she could hide you from me. Foolish old woman probably believes saving your life will absolve her of her sins and free her precious child."

Panicked, Violet began to push herself backwards, her hand slicing on a piece of the broken glass beneath her palm. "What do you want?" she asked, unable to back up any father, her back painfully pressing against a cabinet door, blood staining the white floor around her hand.

"I want... your light. I want the other soul that resides inside of you."

Swallowing hard, Violet stared up at the figure looming above her. "Other soul...inside me? I don't understand..."

"You don't now, but you soon will. I almost finished this... I almost succeeded in destroying the light. But that woman took away my chance that day, seventeen years ago. And now I'm here to finish what I started."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Violet said shakily, her arms coming over her head, her face buried in her knees as if denying its existence would will it away. "I don't know what you want! Go away!" she screamed.

But just as the shadow began to reach for her, Violet heard a familiar voice in the doorway. "Violet... are you okay?"

It was Alyssa, woken by the sounds of shattering glass. "What happened?" she asked, fear blanketing every feature of her body as she flipped on the light switch, instantly running to her friend's aid.

Violet, body shuddering with shock, raised her head from her knees, her voice timid and shaky, so unlike the strong, fearless girl Alyssa was used to. "Where is it...?"

"Where is what?" Alyssa asked, confused, grabbing a cloth from the drawer and wetting it, then wrapping it around her injured friend's hand, gently brushing aside the hair that had fallen in her face.

"That... that thing. He was just here a second ago." Violet croaked, her gaze darting around the room. "Where did he go...?"

Alarmed, Alyssa got up, making her way to the front door, and then the back door, gazing out all the windows as she walked by. "Uhm... Violet, there's no one here. Did you have a nightmare?"

Violet shook her head weakly. "No... he was here. I saw him... he was real! He said he wanted the light inside me...I feel sick..." she moaned, as a wave of nausea overcame her.

Alyssa bit her lip, running the cloth over Violet's forehead. "I really think you just had a bad dream and you're still half asleep."

Tears flooded out of Violet's eyes, desperate anger lighting up her eyes. "NO! I know what I saw! It was real! What if... what if he comes back...I don't wanna go back to sleep..." Alyssa watched helplessly as the other girl sobbed. Whatever her friend saw, she knew it was bad. It took a lot to shake Violet, and this had shaken her to her very core. It sent shivers down her spine to see her usual pillar of strength deteriorate in front of her eyes. Unable to do much else, Alyssa moved to her side, cradling the other girl as she cried, the hours slipping by as dawn made its presence known with a soft glow. Eventually Violet's tears subsided, her body going limp with exhaustion as she slipped into unconsciousness.

When Alyssa was sure her friend was asleep, she tugged at Violet's shirt, lifting it to just above her stomach, her heart sinking as she let out a mournful sigh. There, on Violet's abdomen were three, bright red claw marks, barely enough to piece the skin and be painful, but not enough to bleed.

A classic sign of demonic attack.

"So...you're here already..." she whispered, to no one in particular, but still knowing the words would reach their destination. "I knew this day would come...

* * *

><p>- Er well... sorry the plot is moving along at glacial pace. ^_^; But still necessary I promise!<p>

- Alyssa is not a random OC thrown in for fun, I promise. In fact she's not entirely an OC o_o. Hmmm.

- Not sure what else to say. Also not quite sure when the next part is coming- mostly because it's finally getting to the core of the story and I wanna make sure I convey everything properly. /Perfectionist Dx

Thank you again for reading everyone! I hope you're still enjoying this! If not, please feel completely free to call me out on anything! ^_^


End file.
